Keystone Poems | Examples

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Bhut Jolokia coin, loud and side
she smiled
moving toward speaking
the extended metaphore 
of rain.
involve a glide from one vowel sound
to another vowel sound
all within the same syllabylle
 to another within the same syllable 
(like "oi" in "coin", where the cenrity of
the composer and the lyricst are
combiined in the effect to convey the right means
to display both talent and skill.
gold mined from the caves
and the gold from the streames are
same where the smelters combine then to
make the jewlery we favor.
Lodes and placer gold
from stream and vein
smeltered into coins. She said smiling.
From the BZook  Keystone Gold Drop
a Fictional story about six Tribes and Seven Historains that
find a large amount of Gold They need
to find the deed to Property to claim the gold
but the Society that holds the deed
wants the Gold holders to
be contested through a game
where she insists a ghost
would be the one to determine who gets the prize.
Filed Under Comedy.

A Recluse Does Not Embrace Modern Trends

Facebook people I may know, do they know me?
If they do they might request to be a friend
through our Facebook interface quite easily~
but a recluse does not embrace modern trends,
unless you message a most poetic plea,
my hermitage I will happily defend;
solitude is the keystone of sanity,
all else is victim to mortal vanity!

Crown The King

CROWN THE KING
 
Kendrick, king of kinetic kinesis,
Kaleidoscopic knowledge knits keenest.
Kindled by Compton's kinetic flame,
Keen verses vie for victory, acclaim.4

Knightly in kendo of kindred beats,
Keeps a killing calmness under knit sheets.
Kicks, knuckles, knockouts off his notes,
His knavish knacks, knight-errant floats.8

King of the craft, crowned in creative conquest,
Kendrick the keystone, like Kinta Kunte's quest.
The keeper of keys to kingdoms is K.Dot,
Kindhearted kinfolk, Kenny is kinetically hot.¹²

Kendrick's alter ego kits Kung-Fu Kenny,
Kdot's "6:16 in LA" & "Not Like Us" impressed many.
Kendrick's career-spanning series of the same name
Keeps Kung-Fu Kenny kitted-up in the rap game.¹6

Kaleidoscope king, keep kindling the art.
Crown King Kendrick, he who's carved apart.¹8


VICK MANUEL POETRY
{VMP}
FORM: Alliteration 
Copyright ©?11th May, 2024.

So Here We Are

So here we are…
Brought into a world of discrimination and disarray
We are not the keystone but the voussoir
Simply a pebble on the pathway

Because hopefully our kids can figure it out
At least that is how we got here 
“Oh, I'm sure someone will come about to resolve our extestential drought”
Unfortunately for us, the path is not clear

But does anyone apart from us understand that? 
That the pressure put on us at such a young age
Can actually combat 
The very thing they want to assuage.

Maybe no one understands it.
Maybe there’s nothing we can do but acquit.

Thankful For Flamingos

May we be blessed to acknowledge all the wonders in our life
that have, for us, thus far accrued…
and to begin each day with a word of thanks…
and thoughts of gratitude.

Today I’m thankful for flamingos and all the gifts they have to give
They are known as keystone wetland species
meaning their actions create an ecosystem 
where many other species live…

If you find beauty and pleasure 
in the flamingo’s elegant pinkish hue…
eat shrimp for breakfast, lunch and dinner
and you’ll be pretty…and just as pink too.

The Question On the Mountain

It is true.
Bright and clear.
As sky blue.

Love, you are my keystone. 
Forever you will be
My light when I'm alone.
A bond no force can break. 
Love will always conquer.
A base no quake can shake.

My heart drips and runs like melting wax,
Comfortable beside the stone hearth.
We play some classical music tracks.
The winter sky is blue up above.
Below is the ground covered in pearl.
Nature sings songs of holiday love.
 Love's always been there for all to see.
"Let me ask you on this mountain top,
Will you take my hand and marry me?"

Christmas In July Origins

It all started in North Carolina
Home of my heart and physique
I don’t think it’s praised in China
Because of such blazing mystique

It began at Keystone Camp in Brevard
Where children were so delighted
To discover the wonders endeavored
By those creative minds, so excited

It was like a sort of storybook dream
Reflections of joy inspired by the heat
Christmas in July was the big theme
Stockings for Santa made it all complete

It felt like a joy beyond all belief
Hearts were adoring all the festivities
The spirit of Christmas was such a relief
From the regular camping activities!





Christmas in July or July Celebration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin 
Used: Rhymezone to check rhymes
Dated: July 11, 2022

Article in Southern Living about Christmas in July beginnings

The Oil Debate

Some say love makes the world go round
I say it is oil that makes the world go round

The thing that is in everything
from plastics to fuel is how it does rule

so given this thought here is your opportunity
to have your say in a different way

Where’s your stand on the Keystone pipeline
moving dirty Alberta oil from Canada to Texas

Or fracking that shakes the earth
and plays with the water table

how about drilling in national parks
and protected wetlands or in oceans and seas

the carbon footprint that fossil fuels leave
and our slavery to BIG oil and high gas prices

but what of the flip side
the oil cartels called OPEC alongside Mr. Putin

does the blackmailing by the few
through oil dependency offset the risks

that is the question to be answered

Andreas Simic©

Mount Rushmore

Off to Mount Rushmore
To see the presidents:
Washington, Jefferson,
Lincoln, and Roosevelt,
Men of enormous stature
In the land of The Lakota,
Keystone, South Dakota
Fourteen years undertaking
Borglum’s work breathtaking,
With sixty-foot-high faces
Carved into granite outcrop,
One of our country’s
Most celebrated places.

written August 15, 2021

Featured on All Poetry's Front Page
September 28, 2021

The Question On the Mountain

It is true.
Bright and clear.
As sky blue.

Love, you are my keystone. 
Forever you will be
My light when I'm alone.
A bond no force can break. 
Love will always conquer.
A base no quake can shake.

My heart drips and runs like melting wax,
Comfortable beside the stone hearth.
We play some classical music tracks.
The winter sky is blue up above.
Below is the ground covered in pearl.
Nature sings songs of holiday love.
 Love's always been there for all to see.
"Let me ask you on this mountain top,
Will you take my hand and marry me?"

7/29/2021
"3-6-9" Poem
Emile J. Pinet

Fight Into the Light

Gloomy melancholy conspiring expiring
Where are the instances of inspiring admiring aspiring
God I am tired of listening to the moaning
All the hours and days of angry groaning
Not my choice when i knew of it years ago
When i looked up toward the skies little did I know
That the rainbows would turn into shadows
Thus wearily, sorrowfully I turned my mind away
Best I could do was keep my heart pure in the light
My soul as alive and fresh as possible each day
Hopeful that the darkness and sadness will breakaway 


Keystone pipeline stopped YEAH!

Tusk

right to left me read please

every poem must have a word
like a keystone centered in it
the word is

                                              OR

then there must be a symbol-word
misplaced, out of place,
something unsettling must take place
a hapax legomena like

TUSK

now the bowl is cracked
wabi-sabi

on a white page
some ink has been spilled

even a random accident has great meaning
if it can be read

you see something invisibly big
or something too small to ignore

a coin falls onto the floor

                                              OR

it hangs in the air spinning on and on
never reaching

          ambit

    a poem is like that
    never arriving
    always reaching

r m l t r -

it in is truth

Give Me Black and White Tv

The keystone cops made us laugh ‘til we cried.
Humor on TV was innocent fun.
Nineteen sixties was a jolly good ride.
Stuff on there today makes me want to run.

Andy Griffith and Fathers Knows Best
Gave us wholesome family time every week
We did not have to know about the rest
All the blood and gore that today we seek.

Let’s go back to the black and white I think.
Where times were innocent and well said. 
Where Doris Day dressed up in mink. 
And everyone did not hop in bed.

A Man Cant Live On Memories Alone

On the park bench where he met her
He placed one last rose
On the headstone beside her
Reads his name and a date unknown 

If I were to guess
I’d say it won’t be long
Cause a man can’t live on mem’ries alone

Once his Heaven is gone
His life turns to hell
From a home, to a house, turned into a cell
The smiles that still hang 
In the pictures postponed 
Cause a man can’t live on mem’ries alone

(Pedal steel fill)

As the perfume from her pillow
Slowly fades away
The keystone of his happiness 
Crumbles more every day

The flowers barely wilted
He placed on her grave
Got tossed in the hole
They dug today

Once his Heaven is gone
His life turns to hell
From a home, to a house, turned into a cell
The smiles that still hang 
In the pictures postponed 
Cause a man can’t live on mem’ries alone

Though teardrops are falling
Without a doubt I know he’d say
I wouldn’t have it any other way....

Once his Heaven is gone
His life turns to hell
From a home, to a house, turned into a cell
(Fading out)

The Poet

Her mind accumulates oddments and curios,
contrivances with strange linkages,
attachments that bolt unlikely parts together;
the mechanics of metaphysics.

Pieces of something she is sculpting or
assembling, or just waiting for,
a glimpse of a word-picture
too intricate to be entirely recalled
as a whole canvas.

She discovers these odd figments
on the leeched rim of vision,
where shapes are nameless.
Part of her mind
burns with the light of a kerosene lamp,
the other blazes too brightly.

Slowly she feels the inconceivable
creep upon her, imagines discovering 
the last transcendental piece 
of a scattered poem, the keystone.
Senses reach for a nexus
there are endless connections,
too many to grasp.

She realizes that her whole life
she has been building images
that can only be seen once,
once before their time, after that 
they are just
writing.

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